Alone, lonely people talk to themselves. In company, they often continue.

I love money, but will money ever love me in return?

Deconstruction: peering suspiciously at the text, I wait for it to make a slip and betray itself.

When understanding would be too difficult, I become trusting.

Disobedient parents are a great trouble to their children.

In a strange city, I connect through food and fantasy.

Moderation in all things is best, but it's pretty hard to get excited about it.